


Come From Way Above

by braezenkitty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Belly Dancing, Bottom Castiel, Cuddly Dean, F/F, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Dean, belly dancer cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 01:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11978907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braezenkitty/pseuds/braezenkitty
Summary: Dean was pretty sure he’d died and gone to heaven, because he was definitely watching an actual angel dance.





	Come From Way Above

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [deaneatscake](https://deaneatscake.tumblr.com/) for beta reading this. Any remaining mistakes are all my own.
> 
> The title comes from [Angel by Massive Attack](https://youtu.be/xiK2JlBpzvI), which is the song Cas dances to.
> 
> This whole fic was inspired by [this video](https://braezenkitty.tumblr.com/post/164268380707/had-to-track-down-the-actual-video-from-that).

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Dean said, letting Charlie drag him towards the front of the audience. She pushed through the crowd with a murmured, “excuse me,” and they let her past.

“You’re here because this is an awesome show,” Charlie said. “Beautiful people dancing in costume, dude! Didn’t you enjoy the first half?”

Dean thought back over the first few dance groups, all beautiful women wearing belly dancer costumes and gyrating their hips. He couldn’t deny that he’d enjoyed it.

“The dancers were good,” he said, “but this just isn’t my scene.” He looked around the crowd surrounding them. Everyone dressed in soft, flowing clothes, half of them wearing dreadlocks and smelling like patchouli. There was a smoky haze over the room, which Dean guessed was not due to a fog machine for the ambiance.

“I’m thinking about hiring one of the performers to dance for the Queen at the next Moondoor.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at her.

“He’s really good, you’ll see.”

“He?” Dean asked. “I thought this was a belly dancing thing.”

“Yeah, well dudes can belly dance too.”

“Huh, okay.”

“And this guy is amazing, just wait and see.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dean tried to imagine a man decked out with a belly dancer’s outfit, low slung sheer skirt and tiny top. Or would he go topless? Probably topless. But in Dean’s world, real men didn’t dance. At least according to John Winchester, who had squashed Dean’s dreams of becoming a ballerina at the age of five. The only acceptable form of dancing was swaying with a girl on your arm.

Dean cut his thoughts off before they could get any darker. He was out here to have fun, not to relive bad memories. With perfect timing, the lights dimmed and the curtain on the stage pulled back to reveal a man standing with his back to the audience, arms upraised. He wore nothing but low-slung, billowy pants with ornate metal decorations around the waist and a dark scarf tied around his head to cover his hair.

A low, pounding bass beat thrummed through the audience, the music gradually growing louder. It felt like a second heartbeat reverberating in Dean’s chest. The man on stage kept his back to the audience, rolling his shoulders and occasionally snapping his hips to the beat. Tattooed wings covered his upper back and shoulders, the tips stretching down his triceps almost to his elbows. They undulated with the music, giving the impression of being more than just ink.

A voice began to sing, “You are my angel, come from way above,” and the man turned to face the audience, revealing a toned chest, cut hipbones, and another tattoo of some kind of esoteric symbols on his ribs. His face was covered by a dark mask, shadowing his eyes. His hips rolled and snapped in time with the beat as it grew more intense, guitars now growling along with the pounding drum beats. The sinuous way the dancer’s body flowed with the music had Dean mesmerized.

He couldn’t decide where to look; at the dancer’s long arms and slender fingers, flowing with the music as he spun in graceful circles; his chiseled chest and soft belly; or his sharp hips as they gyrated with the beat. Even his bare feet were beautiful as they glided across the dance floor. Dean was pretty sure he’d died and gone to heaven, because he was definitely watching an actual angel dance.

The music began to quiet, the guitars and drums fading until all that was left was the thudding heartbeat. The dancer’s movements became less and less pronounced until finally he stilled and the music stopped. The audience went wild, cheering and whistling. Dean was stunned, but somehow managed to bring his hands up to clap. Bowing gracefully before waving to the audience, the dancer made his way off stage.

Charlie said something, but Dean didn’t quite make it out over the cheering of the crowd and his own distraction. “What?” he asked, eyes tracking the dancer as he slipped behind the curtains.

“I said, pretty awesome, right?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean said absentmindedly as he peered over the heads of the people standing in front of him, hoping the dancer might come back out for a last bow.

The MC, a short man with floppy dark blonde hair, bounded out onto the stage. “Give it up for my little brother, Castiel,” he shouted, and the audience cheered even louder as Castiel came back out on stage and took a bow. Dean’s breath caught in his throat.

 _Castiel_. A beautiful name for a breathtaking man.

Dean mentally scoffed at himself for that thought, but it was true. Castiel had stolen his breath.

“Earth to Dean?”

“Huh?” Dean said, tearing his eyes away from the stage to look at Charlie.

“Wow, you got it bad, don’t you?”

“Got it bad for who?”

Charlie snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Shut up,” Dean said, turning back to the stage.

Castiel was gone. Dean tried not to sigh wistfully.

A couple of girls emerged from behind the stage curtain—a redhead and a brunette, both wearing belly dancer’s outfits—and got into place, mirroring each other with one arm raised above their head and one curved at their waist. Another song started, the beat slow and sensuous, and the girls rotated their hips and danced around each other.

“Whoa,” Charlie whispered.

Dean smirked. “Now who’s got it bad?”

“Shut up, Winchester,” Charlie said, glaring at him. “Maybe I’ll hire them to dance for me instead of Castiel.”

Dean watched the girls, hoping the masked dancer would come back out and join them on stage. No such luck though. The girls finished their dance and the MC returned, calling for more applause and thanking everyone for attending. When he walked off stage and people began wandering away, Dean stayed where he was, figuring he’d wait till everyone cleared out and maybe catch another glimpse of Castiel.  


Charlie had other ideas though. “Come on, dude, it’s time for drinks,” she said, pulling at Dean’s arm.

Dean tried not to sigh in disappointment and let himself be pulled over to the bar where he slid onto a seat. He and Charlie ordered drinks—a beer for him and a green apple martini for Charlie—and sat back to people watch. Dean was really just scanning the audience for the dancer. He wondered if he’d come out without his mask on. A few of the other dancers from earlier in the show had already emerged, still wearing their costumes and mingling with the crowd. Dean nodded to a good looking, dark haired man who walked past and took the empty bar stool to Dean’s side.

“So you’re totally into that dancer, huh?” Charlie said, nudging Dean’s shoulder with her own.

Dean huffed a laugh, blushing as he pictured Castiel dancing, his sinful hips undulating with the beat. “Yeah, okay. Maybe.”

“I knew it,” Charlie said.

“I mean, did you see the way he moved? All sinuous and sensual. You’d have to be dead not to be affected by that performance,” Dean said, sipping his beer. “And that mask hiding his face? Made it even hotter. I’ve had a half chub going on ever since the first snap of his hips.”

“Dude, gross! TMI!”

“I’m not even sorry.”

“Well, you should be. You’re like my brother. I don’t want to hear about your dick situation,” Charlie said, sipping her appletini. “But I can’t say I blame you,” Charlie said with a sly grin. “I’m not even into guys, but dude’s hips make Shakira’s look like dirty liars.”

Dean almost choked on his beer with laughter. “Damn straight.”

“Hopefully not too straight though.”

Dean laughed again. “Yeah. Not like I’ll ever get to meet him though.”

“Um, you know I have a contact backstage, right? Remember when I invited you to this shindig and said my girlfriend was working as a stage hand? I could get you back there.”

“Nah, he’s probably got dozens of groupies waiting around backstage to fuck his brains out after every performance. I’d just be one of the crowd. I don’t want to get Gilda in trouble either.”

“Alright,” Charlie said with a shrug. “I could see about passing your number along to him instead.”

“It’s okay,” Dean said, smiling wistfully. “I’ll just keep my infatuation to myself and admire him from afar.”

“So you mean you’re gonna start stalking him and going to all his shows?”

“No, of course not,” Dean said, sipping his beer.

“Uh huh.”

“Okay, maybe. But not in a creepy way.”

“Alright, well if you change your mind—oh, there’s Gilda!” Charlie said, slipping off her barstool and waving. Gilda pushed through the crowd to give Charlie a quick hug and kiss.

“Hey, Dean,” she said, disentangling herself from Charlie’s arms but twining their fingers together.

“Hey, Gilda. Good show.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile, then turned to Charlie. “I hate to be a party pooper, but I’m exhausted. Do you mind if we head home?”

“Of course not, babe,” Charlie said, giving Gilda a squeeze. “Dean, do you mind…”

“Nah, go on. You crazy kids have a good night. I’ll stay here and finish my drink and pine away.”

Charlie laughed and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, then she and Gilda left.

Dean turned back to his beer, watching the crowd in the mirror behind the bar and daydreaming about what it would be like to get a private show from the dancer. He sipped his beer, smiling to himself as he pictured the dancer in his lap, hips gyrating.

“You look like the cat that got the canary,” said the man sitting next to him, jerking Dean out of his reverie and making him jump. Dean hadn’t paid the guy much attention beyond noticing he was good looking, but now that he was looking at him he realized he was absolutely gorgeous.

“Um, what?” he said, getting lost in blue eyes rimmed in khol. His heart skipped a beat and he struggled to parse the man’s meaning.

“You look like you’ve got a delicious secret.”

Dean felt a blush color his cheeks, remembering the sinful way the dancer had moved on his lap in his daydream. “Um, just daydreaming.”

“Must be a good daydream.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, you could say that.”

They sipped their respective beers, then the man spoke again. “I couldn’t help but overhear some of your conversation earlier, about the dancer.”

“Oh, god,” Dean said, dropping his head as his eyes slipped shut. “How much did you hear?” he asked, grimacing as he looked up at the man.

“Enough to know you’ve got a thing for him.”

Dean chuckled and sipped his beer before answering. “Yeah, well dude was hot.”

Cas’ lopsided grin grew and Dean thought he saw a pink tinge to his cheeks as he looked away. “You know, I happen to know him, and he doesn’t have any groupies. He uses the mask to keep them at bay.”

“Oh, that’s smart.”

“Despite outward appearances, he’s actually pretty reserved and private.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that judging by the way he dances.”

Cas sipped his beer, his eyes on the bar in front of him. “So you enjoyed the show?”

“God yes, I mean, did you see it? How could anyone with eyes not enjoy that?”

Cas laughed and bit his lip, and that tinge of pink bloomed on his cheeks again. If Dean didn’t know better, he’d think—

“Wait,” Dean said, setting his beer down on the bar. “Are you—oh my god. Are you him?”

Cas’ grin grew as he glanced at Dean then away. “Maybe.”

Dean felt his stomach drop. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry—jesus, you must think I’m some kind of stalker freak. I swear I don’t go around gushing about dudes I’ve never met before, and I don’t—fuck, I’m gonna shut up now.”

Cas burst into laughter and ran a hand through his unruly dark hair. Despite his embarrassment, Dean couldn’t help wishing it was his fingers doing the job.

“It’s okay,” Cas said, his laughter dying down. “I’m flattered actually.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, I mean you’re a good looking guy. When you first sat down I was disappointed you were with someone, until I heard your conversation.”

Dean barely resisted covered his face with his hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” Cas said, his eyes pinning Dean to the barstool. They stared at each other for an amount of time that would normally make Dean uncomfortable, but he found he couldn’t look away. Cas finally broke off contact, but only to drop his eyes to Dean’s mouth. Dean licked his lips unconsciously. When Cas looked back up at him there was hunger in his eyes.

“I’m Cas,” he said, holding out a hand. Dean gripped it and shook it briefly, sucking in a breath as Cas’ fingertips dragged against his palm when he pulled away. A lazy grin tugged at the corner of Cas’ mouth.

“Dean.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean.”

“Likewise,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “So where’d you learn to dance like that?”

“I started taking lessons in high school. It was a rebellion thing. My family is super religious. It was stifling,” Cas said, taking a sip of his beer. “I worked in a coffee shop at the time, and this gorgeous woman came in one day asking if she could post flyers for her belly dancing classes. I signed up the next day.”

“That’s awesome,” Dean said, wondering if he’d been a bit older when he’d discovered ballet if he’d have had the guts to sign up for lessons despite his dad’s objections.

“My dad hated it when he found out. Tried to tell me it was the devil’s influence that made people dance like that. He tried to drag me to church functions more often, forbid me from continuing my lessons, but by the time he found out I was almost eighteen so I left. Moved in with my brother Gabe and never looked back.”

“Wow, I’m sorry,” Dean said, feeling a bit sheepish for bringing up what was probably a painful memory.

“It’s okay,” Cas said, a subtle smile on his lips. “I am who I am today because of all that. I wouldn’t be half as good a dancer, and I wouldn’t have met you.” He finished with a wink that made Dean’s stomach flutter.

Dean laughed and sipped his beer to conceal his blush.

“So what about you?” Cas asked, sipping his own beer. “What’s your story?”

“Me? I’m just a mechanic. I own a classic car restoration shop.”

“You must be good with your hands, then,” Cas said, a sly grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“You could say that,” Dean said, trying to control the flush he felt spread over his cheeks.

“I’d love to see one of your projects some day.”

“Well, I actually have one in the parking lot,” Dean said. “My Baby.”

“Your baby?”

“Yep, 1967 Chevy Impala. She belonged to my dad, but I restored her.”

“I’d love to see her, Dean,” Cas said, smiling.

“Well, let’s go,” Dean said, finishing his beer and setting the glass down on the bar. Cas finished his beer and they walked outside into the cool night air.

Baby was parked towards the back of the lot where there was plenty of open space. Dean had taken up two parking spaces to keep people from dinging his girl with their doors.

“This is her,” he said as they walked up.

Cas whistled his approval when Dean stopped at the Impala. “Beautiful car for a beautiful man,” he said.

Dean felt his cheeks warm. He’d been called beautiful plenty of times, and it usually annoyed him, but hearing Cas say it felt different. He found Cas staring at him and couldn’t drag his eyes away, even though they were ostensibly standing out in the parking lot to look at his car. There was something about the way Cas looked at him, like he was important.

He blushed and tore his eyes away, walking towards the Impala and running a hand along her trunk for something to do.

Cas stepped closer, crowding him up against the trunk of the car. Dean felt his breath catch as Cas stared at his mouth and leaned closer. He could feel Cas’ breath on his lips. “Can I kiss you, Dean?”

“Yes,” Dean answered, and the word barely left his lips before Cas’ mouth was on his, his hands gripping Dean’s hips. The kiss was soft and surprisingly sweet, but Dean wanted more. He parted his lips and darted his tongue out to taste Cas’ plush upper lip. Cas made a sound halfway between a growl and a mewl and surged forward, licking into Dean’s mouth and deepening the kiss.

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’ shoulders and held him close, relishing the way their bodies fit together. Despite managing to somehow look soft and lithe while he was dancing, Cas was all hard lines and thick muscle. Dean ran his hands over the muscles in his shoulders, craving Cas’ body against his.

Cas’ hands slid around Dean’s hips to grab his ass, using the movement to pull their groins together. His obvious erection pressed against Dean’s own quickly hardening cock, pulling a low moan out of Dean. He bucked forward, seeking friction as Cas moved to press a line of open mouthed kisses along his neck.

“Want you so bad,” Cas mumbled against his skin, raising goosebumps as his warm breath whispered over the sensitive skin of Dean’s neck.

“Then let’s get the hell out of here,” Dean said, holding back another gasp as Cas gently bit at his neck. He hummed against Dean’s skin before pulling back and stepping away, a smirk on his face as Dean tried to adjust to the shock of cold night air where Cas’ body had just been.

“Good idea, let’s go. You’re driving,” Cas said, walking around to the passenger side of the car. Dean stood gaping for a moment before his brain kicked back online and he pushed off Baby’s trunk and made his way to the driver’s side. He pulled open the door and slid inside, leaning over to unlock the passenger door for Cas. Cas slid into the seat as Dean started the engine.

“So, uh, where are we going?” Dean asked, glancing at Cas out of the corner of his eye as he steered Baby towards the parking lot exit.

“My place, if that’s alright,” Cas said. “That way I don’t have to worry about how to get home later.”

“You don’t have a car here?”

“Nope, got a ride,” Cas said, a slight grin on his face.

“So where’s your place?”

“Turn left then take the next right. It’s not far.”

“Okay,” Dean said, following Cas’ directions. They fell into silence except when Cas gave him the next direction to follow.

“So, I never do this,” Dean said, taking a left as Cas pointed it out.

“Drive?” Cas said, smirking at Dean from across the car.

“No,” Dean said, struggling to hold back a grin. “Go home with strange guys I just met in a bar.”

“Is this where I assure you I don’t think you’re a slut?”

“What? No, just—” Dean stopped to take a breath. “I’m not sure what I’m doing here, that’s all.”

“Well, right now you’re parking the car in front of that blue house on the right and once we get inside you’re gonna fuck my brains out, hopefully.”

“Jesus,” Dean breathed.

Cas chuckled as Dean put the car in park. “Come on,” he said, his voice softer as he placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder and squeezed. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but if you let me, I’ll take good care of you.”

Dean took a shaky breath and nodded, unable to look away from the earnest look on Cas’ face. That more than anything caused him to throw away the last of his inhibitions and follow Cas inside.

Once inside, Cas shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a hook in the entryway, then toed his shoes off. Dean followed his lead and took his shoes off, hanging his jacket next to Cas’. Cas flashed a smile at Dean, then turned and walked into the darkened home. Dean followed blindly, just barely able to make out the hallway they walked down. Cas disappeared into an open doorway at the end of the hall.

Dean followed and stepped into the room. A large bed took up the majority of the space. Cas was lighting a cluster of candles that sat on the dresser against the wall to the left. The urge to wrap his arms around those sinful hips was too strong to deny. Cas hummed and leaned back as Dean pressed up against him and flattened his hands on his belly.

“You want a beer or something?” Cas asked as he lit the last candle.

“No, thanks,” Dean said, pressing a kiss to the back of Cas’ neck as Cas raised an arm and slid fingers through Dean’s hair.

Dean moved to suck the skin at the juncture of Cas’ shoulder, relishing the shudder that ran through Cas’ body. Cas hummed in pleasure again, his fingers tightening in the slightly longer hair at Dean’s crown. Dean gasped at how good it felt. Cas’ answering chuckle went straight to his cock.

Using his grasp on Dean’s hair to hold him in place, Cas twisted around for a kiss. He pressed their chests together for a moment and kissed Dean deeply before grasping him by the hips and walking him backwards until his legs hit the bed. Cas pushed him back onto the bed with a hand to the middle of his chest, then climbed on top of him, straddling his legs. He leaned down for another kiss and began a slow rolling of his hips, grinding their cocks together through layers of denim.

“Cas,” Dean gasped against his lips.

“Tell me what you need, Dean.”

“Take this off,” Dean said, pushing Cas shirt up to his armpits. Cas sat up and pulled the shirt off, allowing Dean full access to his bare chest. Dean ran his hands up Cas’ hips and over the tattoo on his ribs before Cas caught his hands and tsked.

“Your turn to take something off, don’t you think?”

Dean chuckled and sat up so Cas could pull his shirt off, then wrapped his arms around Cas’ torso and kissed him deeply. They fell back to the bed together and Cas resumed his tortuous grinding against Dean’s lap.

“These need to come off too,” Dean said between kisses, pulling at the waistband of Cas’ jeans.

“Good point,” Cas said, sliding off Dean’s lap and undoing the button on his jeans. Dean sat up on his elbows to watch Cas push them off his hips to his feet. When he stood up, he was completely naked and Dean’s mouth watered at the proud jut of his cock.

Cas unbuttoned Dean’s jeans and pulled them off, then stopped to grab a bottle of lube and a condom out of the nightstand. Dean instinctively started to pull his knees up, but Cas crawled over his lap again and settled himself on top of Dean’s thighs. He leaned forward as he flipped the lid off the bottle of lube and applied some to his fingers. In Dean’s ear he whispered, “I want you to fuck me.”

“Okay,” Dean rasped, barely getting the words out. He’d been ready and willing to bottom, but no way was he going to turn this down.

Cas straightened, reaching an arm behind so he could open himself up. His hips kept up a constant rhythm, thrusting forward against Dean’s cock and backward onto his fingers. Dean couldn’t help reaching out and wrapping a hand around Cas’ cock, stroking and spreading precum along his length. Cas gasped at the contact, his hips jerking out of their rhythm.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Dean said without thinking.

Cas hummed. “You should see yourself,” he said, leaning down to take Dean’s mouth with his own.

Dean whined into the kiss, letting go of Cas’ cock long enough to wrap his hand around both their lengths. He stroked up and down, loving the soft glide of Cas’ cock against his own. He panted against Cas’ shoulder as Cas dragged teeth against the sensitive patch of skin just below his ear. Just when he started thinking he wasn’t going to last much longer if Cas kept that up, Cas lifted up and reached for the condom, tearing it open and rolling it over Dean’s cock. Then he raised up and positioned Dean at his hole and slowly lowered himself.

Cas beared down and they both gasped when Dean’s cock slid inside. Cas stilled for a moment to allow his body to adjust, and Dean rubbed calming circles into his hips. When Cas’ muscles unclenched, he began to move.

The sight of Cas gyrating on his lap, hips rolling in a steady, fluid rhythm just as they had while he was dancing, set Dean’s blood on fire. He held on to Cas’ hips, nails digging into the meat of his ass.

Cas leaned forward to capture Dean’s mouth in a searing kiss, and Dean took the opportunity to brace his feet on the bed and thrust up into him. Cas gasped against Dean’s mouth, “Fuck, your cock feels so good inside me.”

Dean slid his arms up Cas’ back, feeling the muscles bunch and release as Cas bounced on top of him, his cock trapped between their bellies. He kissed Cas’ jaw, dragging his lips over light stubble. Cas panted above him, moving to nibble at Dean’s ear. A rush of heat spread through Dean’s body, drawing him closer to the edge. He flipped them over in one fluid movement, immediately grinding his hips against Cas. He had to get deeper.

Cas let out a surprised laugh, and the sight of his flushed cheeks and sideways grin did funny things to Dean’s stomach. He leaned down for a quick, sloppy kiss, then raised up, pulling Cas’ hips against him as he lifted him into his lap. Cas’ laugh turned into a gasping moan as Dean began thrusting hard, slamming his cock against what he hoped was Cas’ prostate.

If the gasps and whining noises escaping Cas’ mouth meant anything, he had the right spot. Cas wrapped a hand around his cock as his eyes slipped shut, mouth hanging open. “Oh fuck, Dean,” he gasped, “you’re gonna make me come.”

The sound of his name on Cas’ lips sent a rush of heat through his core. “Yeah,” he moaned, “come for me, Cas. Wanna see you, beautiful.”

Cas stroked his cock in time with Dean’s thrusts until his movements became erratic. “Fuck, Dean,” he called out as thick ropes of come spurted across his chest.

The sight of Cas slack-jawed and coming apart on his cock with Dean’s name on his lips was too much. It pulled Dean right over the edge until he was coming too, grinding his hips against Cas to try and get as far inside as he could.

He collapsed on top of Cas, resting his head on Cas’ shoulder and panting against his skin. The sticky mess between them was cold against his skin, but he didn’t care. Cas’ arms were wrapped around him, his nose buried in Dean’s hair, and Dean was content to lie there all night.

“That was even better than the daydream,” Dean breathed against Cas’ chest.

Cas started giggling. “Well that explains the dazed expression on your face.”

“I wasn’t actually picturing this,” Dean said with a sheepish grin. “I was just picturing a private show.”

“Uh huh.”

“You may have been on my lap.”

“And there comes the truth.”

“But we were fully clothed.”

“Probably only because I interrupted the daydream.”

“Probably,” Dean admitted with a chuckle. He raised up enough to slide his softening cock out of Cas and pull the condom off. He tied the end in a knot and tossed it into the trash can Cas pointed out.

Dean lay back down, his head pillowed on Cas’ shoulder and Cas’ arms wrapped around him. They fell quiet for a moment and Dean was almost dozing when Cas broke the silence. “I could do that for you, you know.”

“Do what? Interrupt more of my daydreams?”

“No,” Cas said with a grin. “Give you a private show sometime.”

Dean smiled sleepily. “That would be awesome.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to see what Cas looks in this, you can see my sketches of him [here](https://braezenkitty.tumblr.com/post/164283706907/dean-is-pretty-sure-hes-died-and-gone-to-heaven) and [here](https://braezenkitty.tumblr.com/post/164319170192/have-another-drawing-of-belly-dancercas-that-no).


End file.
